Jiang Jin walked at the very front, his back stiff as stone. He maintained a distance of over ten meters from Gu Xun and Lu Zhao—a position neither too close nor too far, yet distinctly separate. He didn't look back once, nor did he utter another word. Instead, he silently cleared the scattered zombies ahead with his burning fists, his movements brutal, as if venting uncontrollable rage.
Gu Xun and Lu Zhao followed behind, equally silent.
Lu Zhao tried several times to speak—to ask about Gu Xun's injuries, to discuss their next route—but seeing Gu Xun's pale, silent profile and the forbidding aura emanating from the figure ahead, all words caught in his throat. The air was thick and suffocating.
They left the alley where the clash had occurred and took the side road with fewer abandoned vehicles. Based on their rough estimate, heading west along this road would take them roughly toward the West City Gymnasium.
Along the way, the post-apocalyptic devastation unfolded before them with increasing clarity. Abandoned cars held rotting corpses, street-facing shops had been looted clean, their shattered glass and walls splattered with dark brown bloodstains. Occasionally, a stray zombie wandered into view, only to be reduced to ash by Jiang Jin's most direct, most violent methods.
His flames seemed hotter than before, yet also more unstable.
Gu Xun's brow remained furrowed. While struggling to muster his nearly depleted supernatural abilities to sense the slightest changes in their surroundings, he kept a close watch on Jiang Jin's state. He knew Jiang Jin was like a bomb ready to explode at any moment, and the fuse was firmly in his own hands.
Lu Zhao was responsible for guarding the flanks and rear. His wind-based abilities gave him an advantage in perception, allowing him to detect potential threats early. Yet, his attention was uncontrollably drawn to the two in front. He could sense Gu Xun's worry and Jiang Jin's resentment, which had almost solidified into something tangible. Being caught between them made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.
"We need water," Gu Xun suddenly spoke, breaking the awkward silence. His voice was dry and hoarse. "We must find supplies as soon as possible."
His lips were already cracked and peeling from dehydration and exhaustion. Lu Zhao's own canteen was long empty.
Jiang Jin's footsteps faltered momentarily. Without turning back, he raised his hand and pointed toward a two-story building ahead on the right, its signboard hanging crookedly and broken—"Convenience Store."
The sign hung crookedly, the glass door shattered into shards across the floor. Inside, it was pitch black, impossible to see what lay within.
"I'll go." Jiang Jin finally spoke for the first time since setting out, his voice low and cold, carrying an unquestionable resolve. Without waiting for Gu Xun's response, he strode directly toward the supermarket.
"Wait!" Gu Xun called out to stop him. "We don't know what's inside. Let's go together..."
"Not necessary!" Jiang Jin cut him off sharply, his retreating figure radiating stubborn isolation. "I'll be faster alone." With that, he stepped into the supermarket's shadows without looking back.
Gu Xun's outstretched hand froze mid-air before slowly dropping. He understood Jiang Jin—any attempt to dissuade him now would only be seen as distrust and further humiliation.
Lu watched the complex, indescribable expression on Gu Xun's face and murmured, "He..."
"Let him go." Gu Xun closed his eyes, leaning against the tire of an abandoned car by the roadside, his face betraying an unmistakable weariness. "We need water, and he needs... to cool off."
Soon, sounds of struggle and bursts of flames echoed from inside the supermarket. The commotion lasted only briefly, fading into silence within a minute or two.
After a while, Jiang Jin emerged from the supermarket. He carried half a crate of bottled water, his clothes stained with fresh dirt. His face remained sullen, but the fury in his eyes seemed slightly subdued, replaced by a deep, icy oppression.
He set the half-box down with a clatter in the empty space before Gu Xun and Lu Zhao, then stepped back several paces. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the opposite wall, his gaze fixed on the distance, no longer meeting theirs.
It was a silent declaration—supplies, I'll find them, but the line is drawn right here.
Gu Xun silently took two bottles from the crate, handing one to Lu Zhao and unscrewing the other for himself. He drank in small sips. The icy water soothed his parched throat but did little to ease the weight in his heart.
Lu Zhao accepted the water and murmured a barely audible thank you. Jiang Jin showed no reaction, as if he hadn't heard a word.
Replenished fluids restored some strength, yet the atmosphere between the three had frozen solid.
When they resumed their journey, Jiang Jin led the way once more, with Gu Xun and Lu Zhao trailing behind. Silence descended again, thicker and more suffocating than before.
The setting sun began its descent, staining the horizon a hauntingly vivid crimson. They needed to find a safe place to spend the night, but the road stretched endlessly ahead, and hearts had grown distant. Where, then, could they possibly find that elusive "safety"?
Gu Xun watched Jiang Jin's resolute, solitary silhouette, a deep vein of worry and helplessness flickering in his eyes. He knew that once certain things were shattered, they could never be restored. Their journey to the shelter was destined to grow even more treacherous because of this rupture.